


I Just Needed To Hear Your Voice (A Final Time)

by Escape_Reality



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A real tearjerker, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Crying, Crying Dean Winchester, Death, Dying Dean Winchester, Heartache, Heartbreak, Human Castiel, I'm Bad At Tagging, It's 4k of sadness, M/M, Normal Dean Winchester, POV Third Person, Phone Call, Sad, Sad Ending, Tearjerker, Tears, This is really sad, dying, not sorry, okay i'm done tagging, sad fic, sorry - Freeform, unaware castiel, you will cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 16:30:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escape_Reality/pseuds/Escape_Reality
Summary: Based off of this Tumblr prompt:"Person B knowing they're undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they're bleeding from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out."orDean just needs to hear Castiel's voice before the seconds run out. And Castiel doesn't know any better.





	I Just Needed To Hear Your Voice (A Final Time)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I really hope you guys enjoy this (and I hope you cry your eyes out because I definitely felt my heart being ripped out as I was writing this and imagining the the moments I was writing down) I also hope I stayed consistent with Castiel and Dean's dialogue and personalities, well I tried my best.
> 
> Also I know there are probably some plot holes here, and that I didn't really go into detail about how Dean ended up this way, I just wanted to write out the sad parts and really focus on the conversation that takes place between him and Cas, so if you see any mistakes or anything that could've easily been solved if they did this and that, just... breeze on by and enjoy this tearjerker :) (and yes I know Dean probably shouldn't have cell service in the middle of a forest but oh well, I also don't properly know what a person experiences when they die so I hope this is believable enough.)

Dean’s breathing was heavy and ragged as he wheezed through the pain, already seeing his vision darkening and his body going weak as the sickening red painted the ground beneath him. He was slumped on the ground, the rock he was leaning against digging into his back. He was clutching at his abdomen, the knife digging deeper into his stomach, crimson spilling through the gaps in his fingers, his hand bathed in red. The pain spread through him like wildfire, engulfing his entire being. It was excruciating, unbearable. People seem to always throw the expression ‘this is hell’ around about the simplest of things, a long meeting at work, a rough school day, an awkward date. Yet _this_ was the true definition of hell. No one could fathom the deep pain he felt, both physically and emotionally. 

 

Dean knew, despite how much he did not want to believe it, _this was it._ There was no way he could survive this. He was deep within a forest, not a single soul in sight, no sign of life other than the rustling of a squirrel prancing through the forest floor, and the birds singing their song. And even if he was strong enough to drag himself, or walk towards the edge of the forest, he couldn't remember which way led to his parked car, his mind hazy and unclear from the amount of blood he was rapidly losing by the minute. And even then, the next town over was miles away, if he called an ambulance they still wouldn't be fast enough getting to him. He wouldn't make it on time. 

 

And _yet,_ despite all of that. He could only think of one thing. Only one word echoed in his mind, one _name._

 

_Cas._

 

_He needed to speak to Cas._

 

Because if he was going to go out today, in the next few moments, minutes, _seconds._ He wanted to hear his lovers voice one final time. His dying wish. 

 

And so mustering all the strength he had left, he dug into his pocket, wincing out breathes, trying to clear his vision enough to see the numbers he was punching into the screen. 

 

The tears brimmed as he pressed the mobile device to his ear.

 

A shaky breath was released when he heard the ringing echo through the speaker. 

 

A single tear fell when Cas’ deep voice filtered through the phone. 

 

“Hello?”

 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, multiple tears cascading down his cheeks. 

 

“Hey Cas.” 

 

He tried in vain to keep his voice even, to not let Cas detect the agonizing pain he was currently experiencing, to pretend like everything was alright. 

 

Because if he pretended, then maybe things would be alright. That maybe, by some miracle, his wounds would heal, or he’d last long enough to drive to the ER, patch himself up and get himself home safe and sound. Get himself to Cas. 

 

And yes, he knew it wasn't possible, he knew there was a million and one chance of that happening, but that wasn't going to stop him from dreaming, from imagining something he so desperately wanted to happen. To imagine himself _living_. 

 

“Why are you calling Dean?” Castiel questions, a sound could be heard on the opposite end, like two fabrics rustling together and Dean could imagine Cas laying on their bed, making himself comfortable as he casually chats with Dean on the phone. 

 

How Dean desperately wished he could be there beside him.

 

“N-nothing Cas, just wanted to see how you were doing.” Dean replies, trying for casual, not letting Cas know the urgency of this phone call, treating it as if it were just another regular call, like he was just casually checking in, wanting to know the what, when and where’s of Castiel’s past 6 days where he hasn't seen Dean. 

 

Dean tried to ignore the voice in his head telling him Cas wouldn't be seeing him for any more. 

 

“Well I am alright, I am doing nothing in particular. Are _you_ alright though? You sound a bit… odd.” Castiel says, worry creeping into his voice.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I'm alright Cas, just a bit tired s’all.” Dean tried hardest not to slur his words, but it was getting harder and harder.

 

Castiel pauses a moment, “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

 

“Yes Cas.” Dean says, forcing a chuckle, and immediately regretting it as pain shoots up from his wound. He squashes down the cough he wanted to let out, feeling blood crawl up his esophagus. 

 

“As long as you are sure. You know you can tell me anything, yes?” Cas says, his tone dubious, speculating that Dean wasn't telling the truth. 

 

“I know Cas, I know.” Dean tells him, and Dean has to force himself not to break down into sobs then and there. Cas had been amazing to Dean. He was like Dean’s rock, the only thing keeping him sane in a world that constantly drove him to and over the edge. Always so considerate and kind, knowing Dean like the back of his hand and always present with exactly the thing Dean needed. Whether it was a warm body to hold him, a voice to soothe him, a firm hand to right Dean and make sure he wasn't doing anything stupid that would get him hurt. He was patient with Dean when he got frustrated and took it out on his lover, always there to hold Dean when he knew Dean was at his breaking point. He was the best lover Dean could ever ask for. He was also many firsts for Dean. And it was only fitting that he would be his last. 

 

If Cas only knew his lover was dying on the opposite end of the line.

 

“I miss you Dean.” Castiel said, his voice raw and heartfelt like he truly meant it because Dean _knew_ he truly meant it. Because Cas loved him so damn much and the days he hasn't seen Dean probably felt like years to him.

 

Dean felt his heart clench with a new type of pain that was far more intense and painful than the pain that currently overtook his abdomen. It was a type of pain that felt like the fires of hell was just poured over your insides, eating you from the inside out.

 

Dean bit his trembling bottom lip, trying to keep the sobs in, trying to keep his voice steady, yet his reply still sounded tight and shaky. “I miss you too Cas, so, so much.”

 

Castiel was silent for a moment again. Dean could almost see Cas’ distressed and analyzing face, the way his head tilts and his eyes narrow and his brows scrunch when he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong. 

 

“Dean are you _sure_ you’re alright? You sound a bit strange, is anything the matter?”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut again, his head falling forward releasing a quiet shaky breath. _No Cas, nothing’s alright. This is probably the last time I'm going to hear your voice, the last time you're going to hear mine. My minutes are numbered and I'm living them out by calling you and pretending it's nothing but a casual phone call when in reality, it's the final time we’ll ever have any contact with each other. I'm dying and you don't even know it._

 

“Yes Cas m’sure, everything s’alright.” Is what passes through Dean’s lips, his words slurring much more as his breathing becomes more uneven, rougher and more violent. His lungs are failing him, yet he desperately squeezes the air through his tightening esophagus, needing just a couple more minutes with his husband. 

 

“When are you coming home?” Castiel asks, a hope in his voice that makes Dean want to tear himself apart. 

 

“I’ll be home soon, I promise.” His voice is surprisingly even as he says this, despite the way the words tasted like poison in his mouth for he knew it was not true. Cas would never see him again. He’d never be able to rouse Dean from sleep with soft caresses through his hair, never be able to kiss Dean hello or goodbye or in throes of passion or relief, never be able to hug Dean, tight and close, like he held the entire world in his arms. 

 

“Good, I can not bear to be away from you any longer.” His husband says in relief and Dean wants to be sick. 

 

Instead, he dodges the topic of when Castiel would see him again, and dives into a memory that was forever engraved in Dean’s mind and heart.

 

“Cas, do you remember when we visited that art exhibit you begged me to take you to? The one with the paintings of cherubs.” Dean questions, a slight laugh in his voice, gruff and breathy. Discreetly sniffling away the tears.

 

Castiel groans slightly, “Yes Dean, how could I forget? It was a mortifying time for me.”

 

Dean lets out a strained chuckle, “If you didn't run into a painting and puncture your head through it right at the perfect spot, it might not have been _as_ mortifying. Damn near pissed myself laughing when you turned around and your head rested right where the cherubs head was.”

 

“W-Well, it is not my fault the management of that exhibit had poor taste in art placement.” He could practically hear the way Castiel’s face more than likely turned beet red as he said that.

 

“I wouldn't have had that day any other way though.” Dean admits.

 

“I beg to differ, it would have been much more enjoyable if I wasn't subjected to such mortification. Nor banned from that exhibit.” Castiel grumbled.

 

“ _I_ beg to differ Cas. That was one of my favourite days. Could never forget it.” Dean tells him sincerely.

 

“How could that possibly be Dean? There was nothing special about it.”

 

“Maybe not to you…” Dean starts, gulping down gasps to ready himself for his lengthy speech. “But that was the day I realized I was gone for you. I remember thinking, ‘God, look at this dork, this beautiful, idiotic dork that I can actually call mine.’ and when we practically ran out of that place, and laughed our asses off all the way to our cafe, when I glanced at you in that moment Cas — all flushed and embarrassed with your eyes so goddamn blue and a grin that could practically split your face in half — I knew I had fallen so deep and so fast. I was in love with you. And I thanked the heavens, anyone who was listening, for having our paths cross. I didn't know what I had done to deserve you, but whatever that damn good thing was the higher ups deemed acceptable, out of all the bull shit I’ve done in my life, they could damn well assure I was going to be selfish and never let you go.”

 

The line went silent for a moment, Castiel taking in everything Dean had just said. “You- You never told me that.”

Dean merely shrugged, “It never really came up in conversation. And it was something I kinda just kept to myself.”

 

Castiel felt his heart constrict, overcome with emotion. “Thank you for finally telling me.” He says softly.

 

The other man is quiet for a moment, his head down and eyes clenched shut, as if the next words were more daggers plunging into the fragile flesh of his heart with the intensity of how much he meant them.  

 

“Castiel…” Dean takes a shuddering breath, trying to keep it quiet as to not alert Cas of the way he couldn't fill his lungs properly. “You know how much I love you, right?”

 

“Yes Dean… of course,” Castiel sounds puzzled, probably wondering why Dean is saying something so heartfelt out of the blue. Not that Dean never told him how much he loved him. There was just something about this that felt different. “I love you with every fibre of my being.” 

 

More tears fell from Dean’s glassy eyes, “Good, I just, didn't want you to forget.”

 

“I could never forget Dean.” Castiel says, sounding so serious and sincere. 

 

“Good.” Dean keeps his eyes closed, a waterfall of tears spilling over cheeks that were rapidly losing it's colour. 

 

Dean sobs silently, biting at his violently trembling bottom lip. He knew this was it. This was where he told Cas his goodbyes a final time. He couldn't see much anymore, black dots occupied his vision, the world was out of focus, his breathing was heavy and ragged, and everything was starting to sound like he was submerged underwater. 

 

He didn't have much time left. 

 

Dean dreaded the words he was going to say next. He didn't want this to end. He never wanted this moment to end. He would endure this pain and much more for decades on end if it meant getting to hear his lovers voice, getting to speak with him, being connected to him. He would endure the wrath of the devil himself all for Cas. 

 

But he had to, he knew he had to. The clock was ticking, he had stretched this out long enough, the thread he was using to hold on was pulled taught and thinning out, he could feel himself slipping, he could feel the life draining out of him. 

 

“Hey Cas, I-… I gotta go, okay?”

 

Castiel sounds reluctant as he says, “Alright Dean,” He hopefully tacks on, “I will see you soon though right?”

 

Dean dodges the question. He was not going to spend the precious seconds he had left filling Castiel with lies. Instead, he says, “I love you Castiel Novak, I love you more than words can describe.”

 

That really surprised Cas. Dean didn't sound like that. Sure, he told Castiel he loved him, always tacked on with some playful remark ( _“I love you Dean” “Love you too Cas, you big dork”_ ) or after a passionate time ( _“I love you Dean” “I love you too Cas… hey that was amazing sex wasn't it?” “Ugh, Dean.”_ ) But he didn't sound like _this._ He was never desperate to let Castiel know how much he loved him because he knew that Cas already knew. There was something seriously wrong, but for the life of him, Castiel couldn't figure it out.

 

“Dean—“

 

Dean quickly cuts him off, he was not going to fight with Cas, not now. “I’m fine Cas, just, tell me you love me too?”

 

“Of course Dean, you know how much I love you. I love you with all the powers the heavens can muster.”

 

Despite the blood bubbling at his lips, Dean let out a strained chuckle. 

 

The world seemed to still for a moment, Dean trying in vain to live this out as much as he could, before the inevitable. 

 

He tried to picture all the good moments with Cas, despite the fogginess of his brain. He remembered the first time he laid eyes on Cas, rushing into the cafe Dean was sat in, tie askew and a couple buttons of his white dress shirt undone, trench coat billowing behind him as the man hurried to order himself a coffee. His hair was a mess, looking like he just rolled out of bed, but what really captivated Dean was the piercing blue eyes that landed on him. The intensity of them, the _beauty_ of them. That was the moment Dean told himself _I have to have him._

 

And he did, only a week later, while Dean was walking to that very same cafe, he had his head bowed as he furiously texted his brother a lengthy message about not butting into his private life, when he collided with a hard chest that sent him nearly tumbling to the ground before strong arms were wrapping around his middle and pulling him close so that he didn't fall. Dean glanced up and met those piercing blue eyes thats been haunting his dreams. (“I-I apologize profusely, I was not watching where I was going.” “You’re ‘Blue Eyes.’” “I'm sorry?” “N-nothing, uh, I'm Dean.” “Castiel.”)

 

Dean remembers their first kiss, how it started off slow and timid. Both of them testing the waters, not sure how far the other was going to take it, but soon turned heady and fast paced. Teeth nipping at bottom lips, tongue’s battling for dominance, Castiel’s previously quiet bedroom filled with pants and low moans. Then Dean pushed Castiel back on the bed, landing on a squeaky toy that belonged to Castiel’s cat, causing both men to breath a laugh onto the others lips, before pulling back and dissolving into full on laughter. Ending with big grins on both of their faces and with Deans head pillowed on Castiel’s chest, both breathing hard (from the passionate kisses or the laughing fit they had or both) as they stared up at Castiel’s popcorn ceiling. 

 

The first time they had sex, how passionate it had been, how gentle and patient Castiel was with him. Always making sure it was good for Dean, that Dean enjoyed it, that Dean was well taken care of afterwards. Even cooking him a meal afterwards where they bantered over Dean’s favourite shows, and shared kisses with oil slick lips that none of them cared about, before going to cuddle up on the couch, with Dean clinging to Castiel like a koala, head buried into Castiel’s neck and his arms wrapped securely around Cas’ middle. Castiel only smiled fondly and wrapped his arm around Deans shoulder, his hand running soothingly through Deans hair, both of them not paying attention to whatever show was currently playing on the television. 

 

Dean was snapped back to reality by the wetness on his cheeks and Cas speaking once again.

 

“By the way Dean, the couch was finally delivered, I was thinking of having a Dr. Sexy marathon when you get back. I know you are fond of the show and we need to break in the new couch with a cuddling session.” Castiel says, trying to lighten the mood, Dean loves him so much for that. 

 

Dean swallows thickly, shaking his head fondly with a soft smile on his lips despite the tears streaming down his face. He shut his eyes once again, allowing himself a daydream of coming home to Cas and cuddling with him on the new couch they purchased before he left. 

 

“That sounds great Cas.” Dean wheezes out, starting to gasp for air. 

 

“I look forward to it Dean.” Castiel says, and Dean can feel the fond radiating off that sentence, he revels in it, selfishly spanning out the seconds. “I wont make you stay any longer, you may go if you need to.”

 

Dean’s heart feels like it's just shattered at the sentence, with the way it painfully sounds in context to what’s actually happening. As if Cas was saying his goodbye and assuring Dean he could go, without even realizing. 

 

Dean had to believe Castiel would be okay. He had to believe that Cas would move on eventually, that he won’t spend the rest of his life bitter and in agony, wallowing in guilt and in the pain of losing the one thing he cared deeply for in his life. Dean sincerely hoped that Cas would find someone else, someone to make him smile when the world felt like all the happiness had been drained out of it, someone to take him to those art museums he was so fond of, someone to hold him close at night, someone to kiss his soft lips that would immediately have a smile blooming from it, someone to make him dinner because Cas was absolutely hopeless at cooking, someone to make him laugh uncontrollably, someone to love him whole again. And since Dean wouldn't be that person anymore, he desperately wishes Castiel finds that someone else out there. Castiel deserved that. Dean’s never prayed in his life, he just didn't believe that there would be any one listening, or if there was, no one that cared. But in that moment, he sent a heartfelt prayer to the higher up above. Not for himself, he knew he was gone for already, but for Cas. He prayed Cas found peace after his leave, he prayed Cas found the happiness he truly deserved, he prayed Cas finds that love again, the love they had, the kind of love that you breathed like oxygen, unable to get enough of the other no matter how long you’ve spent together. Cas deserved all of that and so much more. And Dean sincerely hoped he found it again.

 

Blood dribbles down Dean’s chin. He forces the next words out, feeling light headed. 

 

“G-Goodbye Cas.”

 

“Goodbye Dean.” 

 

And with that, Dean laid his head on the ground, staring up at the blue, oh so blue sky watching as it's shade darkened and darkened, _oh look_ , now it matched a blue he longed to see. It reminded him of his lovers eyes. He imagined it was. 

 

He imaged Castiel smiling down at him, as if Dean were just in their bed, laying on _their_ soft pillows rather than the moss he laid on now, Castiel hovering above him, playful and happy and carefree, his eyes lit up with the love he felt for the man before him. 

 

He imagined there was nothing wrong in the moment. 

 

He imagined he didn't feel an ounce of pain. 

 

The last thing he was conscious of was Cas’ voice, an electronic tinge to it as it flitted from the phone speaker.

 

 

 

_I love you Dean._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! And can still see the screen through the tears blurring your vision ;) anyway, leave me a comment telling me what you thought! It encourages me to keep writing :)


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